However You Wish
by TheImperfectionista
Summary: The best-selling romance novelist, Rose de Bois has a secret. She doesn't exist and Hermione Granger used the name to publish her dirty stories. It's most inconvenient that someone like Draco Malfoy would fall in love with the author. All the men and women are players in this frolic based on the Shakespeare comedy, As You Like It. *WARNING: lemons, Dramione pairing
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the magical Wizarding World.**

A/N: Thank you Artemisia for hosting the Much Ado About Dramione fest. This fic is loosely based on Shakespeare's As You Like It.

Many thanks to Tridogmom who is a great friend and beta.

* * *

**However You Wish**

**Chapter 1**

**By TheImperfectionista**

Had the wind blown a little harder or if the sun's beams were in a direct line, Draco would have missed the quaffle thrown at him, instead he just caught the large ball.

"I thought this was supposed to be a friendly game of catch!" he shouted at his friend Blaise as he manoeuvred a perfect corkscrew.

"You said it. Doesn't mean I agree," Blaise replied as he caught the quaffle quite comfortably. The two men had been playing in the field for a good hour or so, like they did almost every day. It's not like Draco didn't have other things he wanted to do. It was more the fact that he wasn't allowed to do the things he wanted.

He pulled a magnificent Horntail spin before landing perfectly by some cold beers set up by the house elves. Blaise followed behind, softly floating back to the ground with carefree ease.

"There's a party tonight. You should come," Blaise invited.

Taking a large pull from his bottle, Draco tasted the bitter aftertaste of beer and misery.

"I wish I could. But father's orders are to stay out of the public eye," he replied.

"He's not doing you any favours," Blaise said as he popped open his bottle with the handle of his broomstick.

He didn't have an overbearing father still telling him what to do Draco thought bitterly. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he felt remorseful. It's not his friend's fault that his father wasn't around.

"I'm frustrated with him. Father's only dinner conversation is about the rebuilding of the Malfoy name, yet he keeps me at home."

Carrying their broomsticks in one hand and beers in the other, they strolled back towards the Manor. They passed through the elaborate rose garden, where the albino peacocks used to wander through. However, on this day, none of the rare birds were to be seen.

"Even our peacocks are being publically displayed at Hogwarts as we speak. While I'm here idling my life away," Draco complained.

Blaise sighed at his friend's slump. It seemed like the life of Draco Malfoy showed no signs of improving. As they drew closer to Malfoy Manor, an imposing figure stood at the stone steps towards the entrance. It was the unmistakable Lucius Malfoy, his posture stern, irate, and militant. Before they could be within earshot, Draco spoke to his friend.

"You go ahead inside, I'll catch up with you in my wing."

Blaise strode past Lucius with a polite formal greeting and disappeared in the labyrinth of the Manor. With gritted teeth, Draco walked up to his father.

A few years ago, his father would have towered over him, a long shadow in his wake for Draco to hide behind. Nowadays they stood the same height and Draco no longer wanted to follow his father's footsteps.

"What are you up to, son? Playing quidditch like a lazy schoolboy," Lucius sneered at the old Nimbus 2001 which he bought.

"Nothing. As you have ordered father."

The head of the silver cane swiped hard against Draco's cheek. He tried not to flinch. Tough love was how father showed he cared, he told himself.

"Don't be cheeky with me. Go do something useful for once," Lucius barked.

"That would contradict your previous wishes. 'Lie low, don't go outside the Manor and do nothing,' you told me. I followed your orders to the word."

The son braced himself for the next blow but Lucius only gripped his cane, shaking with rage.

"You insolent boy! Get out of my sight." Draco didn't need to be told twice and headed for the door, but not before Lucius gave his purpose for finding him.

"And get cleaned up! You are to escort Miss Parkinson to Diagon Alley in an hour's time," Lucius shouted after him.

Storming into his wing, Draco was furious. Furious with his father, furious with his current situation, and hopeless over any form of escape. Haplessly throwing his broom on the floor, he downed the rest of his beer whilst pacing around his room and tearing off his Quidditch gear.

Blaise looked on warily from his perch by the window.

"You need a plan to get out," Blaise suggested, which only made Draco chuckle at the obviousness.

"Like I didn't know that. I'll come up with something when I get home."

"Are you being let out?" Blaise asked.

"Yes, with Parkinson of all people. I can't stand her yapping away about nonsense."

Blaise didn't contribute to Draco's vitriol for the girl.

"At least you can do some other stuff in Diagon Alley."

The blond was already in the shower and Blaise was left in the bedroom pondering Draco's predicament, Mr Malfoy, and why Pansy Parkinson needed an escort in the middle of the day to Diagon Alley.

* * *

"Why do you look so sour? This is supposed to be fun," Ginny asked as they walked down a busy Diagon Alley towards Flourish & Blotts.

"The only reason why lemons are sweeter is because you talked me into this silly signing in this even sillier disguise!"

Hermione gestured to herself. No longer did her brown riotous curls crown her face, it fell in silky waves of golden blonde. Her face had also changed to one not her own, thanks to some polyjuice. Ginny forced her into a dress robe of dusky pink with so much drapery over her shoulders, Hermione almost tripped over some trailing chiffon on their way to the bookstore.

"I've managed to get my publisher to sell not one, but three books without having to do any public appearances. I didn't need to do this." But Hermione's protestations went unheard.

Flourish and Blotts was decorated in nauseating colours of pinks and lavender when they arrived. They weren't opened for business yet but Hermione could see the shop window proudly displayed the bestselling Charms Sisters trilogy by Rose de Bois. Books that she wrote in her free time as a hobby. The covers shimmered like opals with a picture of a witch twirling around in the arms of a lean man who seemed to have forgotten to button his shirt.

"If you didn't want to do this book signing, you shouldn't have told me your little secret." Walking through the entrance, Ginny seemed indifferent to Hermione's hysterics.

"What! You spied on me for ages!" Throwing her arms in the air. Any passerby would have thought the author was flouncing like a diva at her poor suffering friend.

"Ms Rose de Bois!" the owner exclaimed as he rushed over. "Thank you so much for agreeing to do this. When your publisher said you wouldn't be doing any publicity for the new book, I was utterly devastated. But now that you're here, we will fill Diagon Alley with lines today!" He shook her hand with such vigour, Hermione thought her arm may drop off.

"You're too kind. It's not like I've written a new book on the life of Harry Potter," she joked.

"Oh if you manage to write an official biography of Mr Potter, it will be the day Gringotts need to expand your vault." He chuckled to himself at his little joke as he led her through the store.

"Now Ms de Bois, please take a seat at the table. Would you like any refreshment?"

"Water will do. Thank you." Leaning into Ginny, she whispered. "You can't leave me here!"

"I'm meeting Harry for lunch to discuss his new ghostwriter," chuckled Ginny who admired the towers of Hermione's published novels.

"We will open the door in 10 minutes. Do we have the right coloured ink for your autographs? My goodness, the queue has already started!"

The shop owner went around the back of the shop in his over-excitement. Sighing into the chair next to the table heaving with her new books, Hermione knew she was in for a long day.

* * *

"Drakey poo, hurry up! I can see a line outside the shop already," Pansy whined as she pulled at Draco's reluctant hand and clattered down the cobbled streets in her heels.

Draco was aware that people stared at him as they went past. Describing the expressions on those strangers' faces as friendly would be like saying a dragon was fluffy. Already he wanted to leave for somewhere quieter.

Ahead of him, Flourish and Blotts indeed had a line which consisted of excited witches, young and old. They stretched down Diagon Alley and giggled and chattered in an unabashed manner.

"Oh honey, you're such a gentleman waiting with me. It would be possibly dreary without you." Pansy stroked his arm as they stood at the end of the line a few shops down.

"What is this about?" he asked curiously. Pansy never seemed the bookish sort to him.

"This is a rare exclusive book signing by Rose de Bois. She writes the most delightful and naughty stories!" Nauseated by Pansy's giddiness, Draco contemplated all sorts of excuses to slip away.

"You must be thirsty. Shall I fetch you a cup of tea nearby?" Those beady eyes widened at him with utter delight.

"That's so thoughtful of you, Drakey. Tea would be perfect." A big kiss landed on his cheek and it took everything out of him to not wipe off Pansy's lipstick immediately with disgust.

"I'll be back."

Draco could hear Pansy's shrilly declaration of how much she'll miss him. Grateful to be alone and out, Draco took his sweet time meandering through Diagon Alley. He made a great show of making his decision at the cafe cashier. Then waited patiently for the single cup of tea. While he was there, he dawdled over the cakes. Indecisive over whether or not to purchase a slice of cake for Pansy. He wondered whether a slice of cake, which she'd claim was fattening her up, would make her more insufferably clingy.

By the time he left the cakes alone and took the now lukewarm tea back to the bookstore, Pansy was no longer seen outside the store. He concluded she must have moved down the line and that would mean his duty of the day would be over soon.

Pushing past some older witches, he was sickened by the unusually high amount of pink in the store.

"Good afternoon. Who do I address this book to?" A lovely soft voice said amidst the gaggle of women.

The crowd parted and Draco caught sight of Pansy with her short black hair and chic camel coloured robes. Then Pansy whipped around and spotted him. But it was too late, he had already seen the brown-eyed woman with the most brilliant smile.

The world around him stood still, the crowd faded into the distance. Draco's heart was in his mouth, his stomach twisted in a nauseous spin, his very flesh burned in spontaneous combustion. What was this overwhelming feeling? Had he caught Dragons Pox? The Pixian Flu?

"Drakey Poo! Come over here!" Pansy waved him over and the beautiful woman at the table turned to him. Her smile dropped for a split second when their eyes connected and Draco felt he could lose himself in their depths.

He was forcibly pulled by his arm towards the table, his escort clung to him tightly.

"Ms Rose de Bois was going to sign my book. Please make it out to Pansy." Pansy had thrusted an open book which the lovely creature accepted with grace and warmth. Draco noted her neat handwriting and how much he wanted to touch her delicate skin.

"What are your books about Ms -? " he asked.

"Rose," she interrupted him as she slid the book back to his unfortunate companion.

"Pardon?" Were her books about gardening?

"No. Call me Rose."

The world shook under him at her casual offer.

"I write romance. Would you also like me to autograph anything for you?" Those plump pink lips smirked at him in jest. He wasn't going to object if she kept talking to him.

"Yes please." Pulling a few random books from the pile next to him, he leant in to place them before her.

"Could you address them to Narcissa?"

* * *

Hermione couldn't believe the ridiculous situation which she was in. There stood Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, asking for her autograph. What would they think if they knew it was _the Hermione Granger,_ who they had tormented and bullied? Under no circumstances was she going to pass up the opportunity to have some fun.

She read the cover of the first book and smiled as sweetly as she could at Malfoy.

"A Squib's Seduction?" Now this was gold. "Would that not be contrary to your beliefs?"

Hermione observed how Malfoy tensed up, his jaw tightened and loosened.

"My personal belief is that we all deserve a fulfilling life, whether you're a squib or Muggleborn. I don't care about - "

"Darling. Stop taking up Rose's time. She's very busy," Pansy whined. Hermione cringed inwardly as she wondered how could anyone date someone that insecure and clingy.

Hermione hurriedly signed the other books. Struck by a spark of inspiration, she scribbled something in the last book and handed them over.

"The last book is addressed to you." His fingers brushed against hers in a gentle caress as he slipped the book from her. "Call it a token of luck."

Feeling nervous from the intensity of his stare, the author cleared her throat and looked past the Slytherin couple at the next person in line.

"Thank you for coming and take care," she dismissed them and watched as Pansy dragged Malfoy from the store, while he constantly kept turning back to stare at her.

Did he discover a link between herself and this persona? Hermione really hoped not! Putting the man out of her mind, she focused on the next fan who beamed with delight. After all, she still had plenty of books to sign. Having been sat at the same table for two hours, there was at least another hour before she could leave.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the start of this story. I'll be updating this on every week on Thursday evening, ready for weekend reading.


	2. Chapter 2

**However You Wish**

**Chapter 2**

When Draco escorted Pansy back to Malfoy Manor, Narcissa was waiting for them in the foyer.

"Pansy dear, would you join me for tea?" the matriarch invited Pansy with an extended hand.

"Mother I have bought you a gift," Draco handed over a pile of books, wrapped in brown paper and string. Narcissa took the gift with a smile.

"You shouldn't have. What did you get me?"

"Only the most delicious stories Mrs. Malfoy. You will enjoy them so much," Pansy interrupted and Draco watched the two women walk away to the orangery. The breast pocket of his robes was filled with his own gift from the author herself.

Going to his room, he settled into his armchair by his personal fireplace before taking the book out of his pocket and stared at the cover. It's swirling calligraphy title catching his eye. _To Muggle into a Wizard's Heart_. A wizard holding his wand in one hand, had another one wrapped around a woman in a state of dishevelled undress.

Opening the front cover, he ran his finger over the message scrawled in beautiful cursive.

"_To Draco, _

_Love is indiscriminate. _

_Rose De Bois." _

Flipping open the book to a random page, he started to read before his eyes widened in shock and excitement. The words sprung up at him in a bold and unabashed fashion. Snapping the book shut, he threw in a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace before sticking his head in it.

He shouted into the fire, "Zabini. Get your flaccid prick over here now!"

Still shocked over what he had seen, he poured himself a quick glass of firewhisky. Blaise had just stepped out of his fireplace when he poured himself a second glass.

"Did you know that witches read these kind of books?" he asked his friend, brandishing the book.

Blaise didn't look surprised.

"Didn't you know that women enjoy porn too?" he asked, amused at his friend.

"But the kind of things that's in them. Like…" Draco flipped through the pages until he found a page to highlight his point.

He read out loud, "With a casual flick of his wrist, the fastenings of her gown came undone. She gasped as the wizard's mouth latched onto her nipple. A delicious burning scorched her down to her..."

Downing his second glass of firewhisky he turned to Blaise.

"Pansy reads this kind of… smut! Oh Merlin…" A mortifying sense of realisation hit Draco like an icy shower. "I just gifted all those books to my mother," he confessed, earning him a snickering laugh from his friend.

"Maybe your mother will feel inspired with your father later on," Blaise said through his uncontrollable laughing. "Besides I did wonder where Pansy got all her suggestions from."

Draco wondered what his friend meant about Pansy.

"What's going on between Pansy and you?" he asked. Blaise abruptly stopped laughing and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"We have a temporary arrangement," Blaise explained before excusing himself to go to the bathroom.

It gave Draco some time to read another excerpt of the book. Perhaps he might understand what Miss Rose de Bois enjoys from reading her dirty little stories.

* * *

His bedroom door flung open before Blaise rushed in and hurriedly locking the door and silencing the room in the process. Draco took in his friend's panicked appearance.

"You look like you've seen a basilisk."

Blaise pulled him up by the shoulders from his chair.

"If you still want any autonomy over your fate, you need to leave now. Go somewhere where your parents can't find you," his friend warned.

"What are you talking about?"

Perhaps Blaise has been confounded into a paranoid state. Pulling a memory from his dark temple, Blaise quickly deposited it into a conjured vial.

"No time to explain. Leave now! Don't tell me or anyone where you're hiding."

Shoving the vial into the blond's hands, his onyx eyes glinted wide with terror. It threw a cold chill down Draco's back. He thought Blaise was joking with him, but it had become clear that the situation was truly grave. Danger was afoot in the Manor once more.

Draco waved his wand and pulled a few personal items into a messenger bag. Taking a last look at his terrified friend, Draco threw in a handful of floo powder and left Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Through a combination of Floo and Apparition to different points, Draco found himself at the Ministry of Magic. He headed towards the only office he knew he could trust. A Ministry employee watched him head for the Minister's door and tried to stop him in his tracks.

"Sir, do you have an appointment with the Minister?"

Draco ignored the employee and barged into the office regardless.

"Shacklebolt, you need to help me," he begged. His wand held tightly in his hand.

Shacklebolt calmly dismissed his staff before offering Draco a drink.

"Mr Malfoy, what brings you to my office today?" he asked, handing him a glass of water.

Draco answered, "I believe I'm in danger and I seek your help."

Kingsley raising an eyebrow in response.

"And what kind of danger do you perceive yourself to be in Mr Malfoy? To be frank, I didn't expect you would turn to the Ministry or me for help."

Draco thought about the Minister's question. What kind of trouble was he in? He only had Blaise's memory in his bag.

"If we can have access to a pensieve, I can show you the only evidence I have," Draco offered and the Ministry mulled over it for a while.

The man strode over to a large cabinet and opened it to reveal a small pensieve bowl. Draco dropped his friend's memory into it and both himself and the Minister fell into the past.

* * *

_They landed in one of the hallways in Malfoy Manor. Turning around, Draco got his bearings. He pointed towards Blaise Zabini as he walked down the long corridor, finally stopping at a partially closed door._

_The former Auror waved to Draco to follow his friend and they too leant closer to the door to eavesdrop._

"_You should have seen him Mr. Malfoy," Pansy's voice whined. "He was practically panting like a dog at the upshot nobody in front of the entire bookshop. Nobody knows about her background. I'm concerned that if Draco isn't careful, he can be tempted to stray from good Pureblood values." _

_They heard her sniff in an over the top cry. _

"_That's alright Miss Parkinson. Lucius and I appreciate your frankness and knowing a girl like you, with a good head on her shoulders, is looking out for our son," Narcissa replied._

"_I'm sorry for being so blunt, but it's only because I care about him and this family. Who I see like my very own," Pansy purred in a way that made Draco feel sick._

"_Speaking of family Miss Parkinson, we have wanted to have a meeting with your parents. To start a conversation on bringing our families closer with a joyful union between Draco and yourself," suggested his father. Draco felt sick to his stomach._

"_I have always wanted a winter wedding," Pansy confessed. "However what if Draco wants to… delay such a happy occasion." _

_Delay? Draco thought. More like outright object!_

"_I'm sure with your charms and our encouragement, Draco would come round to the union," Narcissa encouraged._

"_Indeed, or I will imperius the boy to the altar if I have to," Lucius added garnering a giggle from Pansy. _

Before the Minister and Draco heard any more of the conversation, they were pulled out of the memory.

* * *

Draco stared at the pensieve in deep thought. He couldn't believe what was being discussed between the three of them. Marriage. A marriage between himself and Pansy Parkinson. They might as well tie a noose around his neck. There was so much more he wanted to do with his adult life. Aspirations. But if his parents had their way, those aspirations will never happen.

"Mr. Malfoy," the deep baritone voice of the Minister addressed him. "In light of the information we have heard, do you consent to a marriage between yourself and Miss Parkinson?"

A heart-sinking sense of disappointment and sadness swept over Draco. His own parents signing his life away in a marriage, like sacrificing a pawn to win. They didn't care about what he wanted, his own choice.

Draco answered quietly, "no. I don't."

Kingsley nodded in understanding before casting a patronus. The silver lynx sprinted out of the room carrying his message.

"Can I offer you a seat while we wait for two trusted Aurors come?" The Minister gestured to the chairs at the desk and Draco sat down.

The door knocked and opened and Draco looked at the two Aurors who walked in with dismay.

"Not them," he objected. "Any other Auror in the Ministry, but not them."

* * *

Propping her broom against the wall after a gruelling day of Quidditch training, Ginny looked around Grimmauld Place. No longer was it an old dilapidated place, but more of a shell of what it had once been. Swaths of wallpaper stripped off, floorboards exposed and furniture covered in dust cloths. If Ginny felt tired already, she felt completely exhausted at the thought of all the refurbishment that still needed to be done.

After she changed out of her Quidditch gear and placed dinner in the oven, Ginny began stripping more wallpaper from the hallway when the front door opened and closed. Harry came home and wrapped his arms around her in a tight loving hug.

"What's for dinner tonight?" he asked, dropping kisses against her neck.

"I've put a cottage pie in the oven. It should be ready in half an hour." Her heart fluttered in delight. She would never tire of him showing her affection.

"Let me help you get some of this off before dinner," he offered, unbuttoning his Auror robes.

"Or you can set the table and shower. As much as I love you, you need it." Thank goodness she wasn't prone to swooning as Harry's shirt was pulled over his head and he smiled so sweetly at her before walking away.

Ginny managed to get a few feet of wallpaper off the wall by the time Harry had set the table, showered, dressed and called her from the kitchen for dinner.

Serving herself a hearty portion of food, she took a good look at the love of her life. His messy hair fell over his eyes in an adorable way but he looked exhausted after the day.

"Anything interesting happened at work today?"

He gave a heavy sigh, "I should tell you now since we go to the Burrow on Sundays, but Draco Malfoy is under Ron and my protection there."

Thankfully she was without food or wine in her mouth, or she would have spat it out.

"Did you say Draco Malfoy is under Auror protection? At the Burrow?" she asked, checking that she heard Harry correctly.

"Apparently his family is forcing him to marry against his will." Harry continued to eat dinner as if it was all part of a day's work.

"Does he have cold feet or does he not love this girl?" she asked, Harry shrugging in response.

"I didn't want to delve further into Malfoy's love life."

"Well if he loved her, he should just take the leap of faith and marry her," she said before spearing some peas with her fork in frustration.

"Two people in love don't have to get married," Harry said.

Ginny glared at her boyfriend. He was going to bring up _that_ same issue again. It has nothing to do with Draco Malfoy.

"Well maybe people in committed relationships want to publicly declare their love for each other in front of their friends and family," she said with gritted teeth and shoved more mash in her mouth.

Harry sighed, his hand reached over to hold hers. His emerald eyes pierced through her very soul. "Ginny. I love you. I'll never love another woman the way I love you. All I need in the world, more than air or water itself, is your love. Do you love me?"

The gentleness of his voice weighed heavily on her heart.

She replied softly, "Of course I do."

"We know we love each other. Do we need to prove it to the rest of the world? Like Rita Skeeter writing about our wedding."

The thought of having the horrid journalist anywhere near her wedding sounded positively awful. Harry lifted her hand to his lips to place a tender kiss.

"Let's not talk about marriage yet," he released her hand to continue eating. "Otherwise we might be hounded about when we'll be having children next."

She smiled at Harry, a plaster to cover up the pang of yearning in her heart.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for the lovely messages. I hope you'll stick around to follow Harry/Ginny as much as the eventual Draco/Hermione relationship. Just as there are Rosalind and Orlando, there was Celia and Oliver. This is probably the closest part of my story to As You Like It. Most of the story doesn't follow the play too closely but I'll do my best to make it a fun romp.

Please share your thoughts on the story so far.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews. I hope you're as excited as I am about what is going to happen. I'm not sure if you are familiar with As You Like It, but we are about to move into 'the forest' per say. I'm going to hide now. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 3**

Draco had never seen anything like the Burrow. To call it a house, or a cottage, or a farm would be ridiculous. Such a mismatch patchwork of buildings and extensions, he didn't know where to begin with his derogatory insults.

He stayed in one of the rooms, which had a lumpy single bed and a shelf of polished cups and medals. Everything in this particular room was orderly and from what he could gather from the engraved cups, this room once belonged to Percy Weasley - the pompous bureaucrat extraordinaire!

Feeling lost and uncomfortable in the presence of so many Weasleys, he chose to stay in his room, staring out of the window, contemplating over the face of the woman who he couldn't get out of his head. He thought about Rose's perfect kissable lips and the way she looked at him with intrigue, wondering if she did much else outside of her time as a writer.

Draco read her novel, which he managed to bring, but stopped at various points of the book to take 'relieving breaks' when the intensity of the story became too much. The characters Olivier and Cecilia sprung out of the pages, like living, breathing people with flaws and passions. The character Olivier, a Pureblood wizard with little interactions with the Muggle world, was someone who he recognised a lot within himself. Between the lines, he imagined Cecilia to resemble Rose. Angelic, fiery and utterly ravishing. He hoped that one day, he would be free from his current situation and free to win over this witch's heart.

Through nosiness and sheer boredom, he found plenty of paper, quills and ink pots in the desk drawer. By the fifth day, he made good use of the stationery, scribbling thoughts and musings. Within a week since his arrival, he had written half a dozen poems. The once neat room was now a sea of crumpled balls of paper.

When the Weasley matriarch walked into his room one day with a tray of soup (which Draco begrudgingly thought was delicious) and fresh bread, she wrinkled her nose and promptly walked out of the room - tray and all. It confused Draco why she refused to feed him today but he heard her stomping back up the stairs and his door opened again.

"I've had enough. You are putting on some Quidditch gear and getting on a broom in the paddocks at once!" Molly shouted as she dumped a pile of clothing on his bed, before slamming the door. Her mutterings could be heard fading away and Draco wondered what all that was about.

Hastily filing away his poems into envelopes and dressing in borrowed and ill-fitting Weasley Quidditch gear, Draco left his room.

"Don't come back in the house, until I tell you so!" she shouted as he walked out of the back door.

The air outdoors was fresh and breezy, and the sun shined down and warmed his face. Taking a deep inhale, he realised that Mother Weasley wanted him to get some fresh air.

He found the broom shed and pulled out the least battered broom he could see. Before he knew it, he was a hundred feet off the ground feeling like a new man. Weightless, free and happy. This was the most relaxed Draco had felt in a long time. Performing corkscrews, nose dives and loops, he was so engrossed in how much fun it was that he almost didn't hear Molly calling his name.

Looking down at the Burrow, he saw the matron leaning out of the kitchen window ushering him back inside. Were all the Weasleys treated like this? Given orders to exercise and told when to get back into the house?

Whistling on his way back in, his cheery bubble burst when he realised the entire Weasley family, Potter and Granger were milling about on the ground floor.

"Draco dear," Molly said as she stormed through the corridor, her arms laden with towels and clothing. "Shower and change. Dinner starts in fifteen minutes sharp."

She dropped the pile into his arms before pushing him up the stairs and into the bathroom. Draco showered quickly and dressed in more Weasley hand-me-downs. Taking the creaky stairs towards lunch, he could hear the living room roar with laughter.

"I've got something better," one of the older Weasley shouted, before he continued with his next words.

"O Rose, sweet Rose.

How I yearn to kiss your nose.

O Rose, lovely Rose,

On your lap I'd like to doze.

O Rose, sweet Rose,

Your silky hair shimmers and flows.

O Rose, lovely Rose,

Deliver me from my woes."

His face heated up in a mix of anger and embarrassment. They were reading _his _letters. Gripping his wand tightly, he burst through the door and summoned all of the letters. A body-binding spell hit him, his bound body fell backwards. All the letters fell in a flutter on the floor around him.

"Oh, it's only Malfoy," Ron said with his wand still raised.

Granger looked down at him, his eyes throwing daggers at her.

"You should know before I unbind you that, surprising a room full of Aurors and war veterans is a really stupid idea."

With a flick of her wand, he was released and tried to pull all his letters together, but the papers stacked itself neatly in a pile in front of him.

"I appreciate some privacy while I remain under _your_ protection," he glared at them all. He hated being indebted to the heroes of the war.

"It's just a joke, Malfoy. Lighten up," Ron explained, which made him angrier.

"We're sorry for reading them out loud," Harry said. "But under Auror protocol, we were scanning your room to reinforce security wards and Molly made us tidy your room at the same time. It is protocol to check that you weren't going to write any letters that can compromise your safety."

Draco couldn't look at all the people in the room. They have read and heard his deepest feelings. Those were the words of intimacy which he had no intention of sharing. He was embarrassed, ashamed, and vulnerable.

Fortunately Molly called them all to lunch, which gave him an opportunity to run back to his room and transfigure the letters into quills. The quills were carefully placed behind the trophies in the room.

* * *

Not long after Hermione tried to wrap her head around the idea that Malfoy was living in the Burrow, Ron ran into the living room holding a copy of '_To Muggle into a Wizard's heart'_ and a handful of letters. Her stomach lurched with mortification when George and Ron read out all the terrible love poems that were written about _her_. Actually, Malfoy wrote about her pen name Rose De Bois. Not about her, Hermione Granger.

After the long day of book signing, Hermione didn't give much thought to Draco Malfoy's appearance at the shop. With the new revelation, Hermione realised the problem this posed. Either Malfoy figured out her secret identity and was playing an elaborate joke, or he had a crush on a fictitious woman. Both conclusions made Hermione's head spin.

Hermione managed to whisper a reminder to Ginny that she had made a promise. The redhead also heard Malfoy's poems of love and was roaring with laughter, knowing the truth about everything.

When Draco Malfoy returned to the dining room, everyone was already seated. The only seat left was between Molly and herself. Hermione tried to avoid his gaze as he sat down. Ginny sat facing her, glancing between herself and their lunch companion. Judging by the giddy delight in Ginny's face, she may not be able to hold her promise for long. Hermione glared daggers at her best friend.

Everyone reached for the dishes laden with roast chicken and all the trimmings as soon as Draco had sat down. Hermione noticed Malfoy didn't dive in to the incredible food before them. BIt seemed like Molly noticed too, and served generous helpings onto Malfoy's plate.

"Draco, you have barely eaten since you've arrived," the matron said. "I want you to finish _everything_. Harry, I've made your favourite treacle tart for dessert. There's plenty for everyone."

Everyone ate in silence, sans the chewing noises that came from Ron Weasley's mouth. The revolting habit distracted her from formulating a plan to figure out Malfoy's true motives and how to get him to stop.

"Hey Fleur, have you read any of those new books from that author Rose de Bois?" George asked and a pea slipped off Hermione fork in surprise. She sensed Malfoy was equally tense.

"Not yet. Some of my colleagues said they are very good. 'Ave you?" responded Fleur politely. Hermione wished she could charm George's mouth shut.

"You should read them Fleur," Ginny added. "They're very good,"

"What kind of books are they?" Arthur asked as he joined in the conversation, oblivious to the undercurrent of the table.

"Not the sort of books for you Dad. They're romance novels and saucy too," Ginny replied with a hint of cheekiness in her tone.

"I'm sure Fleur and Arthur have other genres of books they would rather read," Hermione said, in the hopes that they will change the conversation.

"You never know what sort of books people might enjoy. Haven't you read _all _of them?" This time, Ginny's suggestion was met with a sharp kick under the table.

"I don't know. I like to think I read extensively and not just fiction."

Malfoy snorted beside her.

"Excuse me. Do you need a Pepper-up potion?" she asked him and for the first time since she put him in a body-bind, they locked eyes. His silver ones flecked with golden shimmers of annoyance.

"I'm perfectly fine," he replied as he continued to eat his lunch with a smirk on his face.

Hermione's annoyance increased, surely he was in on the joke and toying with her.

"There are other titles that Rose de Bois has written. There's _A Squib's Seduction _or _An Elf to Remind Her,_" Ginny recollected.

"It's Remember, not Remind her," Hermione corrected automatically, only to realise her mistake of admitting she knew about all of those books in great detail.

Malfoy snorted in derision again. She was pretty sure he knew and she needed evidence without everyone finding out.

"If Hermione thinks highly of zeese novels, I might pick up a copy tomorrow," Fleur said, trying to keep the conversation friendly.

"Maybe Malfoy would lend you his copy. He too _loves_ this author," George suggested with mirth.

"That's enough George!" Molly snapped. "Ginny, you should know better."

Hermione was pretty sure Malfoy was just as grateful as she was for Molly's intervention.

* * *

The rest of lunch was eaten in relative silence, giving her enough time to think of her plan. Molly had George and Ginny wash the dishes in what Hermione suspected to be a punishment for making her guest uncomfortable. This gave her the chance to use the bathroom and splash cold water on her face to calm down the red flush. Exiting the bathroom, she almost walked into the blond who had made her Sunday afternoon very uncomfortable.

"Sorry," she apologised, feeling the embarrassment warm her face.

"Whatever, Granger." He sneered down at her as he skirted round her.

"Could I ask you something?" Draco stopped in his tracks at her question.

"Depends, I've not got all day," he said in a bored fashion.

"What is it about Rose de Bois that you like?" she asked carefully, Hermione wanted to know about this new admirer of hers.

"How I feel about someone else is none of your business," he snapped, but it was every bit her business.

"I actually know a fair amount about her," Hermione revealed, hoping it would get him to open up to her a bit more.

"How can that be possible?" Malfoy asked suspiciously and then he smirked with glee. "So you have read all the books."

Hermione swallowed hard, perhaps he didn't make the connection between her and Rose.

"I like to read to relax," she explained. "She was a few years above us in Hogwarts and she used to help me find the books I needed in the library." The lie fell out of her lips easily. "Truth be told, I never thought she would be interested in Slytherins or people with a 'dark past'." This was very much true, Hermione had never found herself attracted to a Slytherin or a former Death Eater before.

"How would you know what she thinks of me? Just because you claim you know her," the blond wizard sneered at her, but she needed to find out whether he was just infatuated and whether she could get him to stop.

"Let's be honest, Malfoy. Isn't it a bit inconvenient to be 'in love' with someone while you're stuck here?"His grey eyes looked at her unimpressed as if she had uttered the most obvious fact in the world. "If you want to know more about her, we can talk more tomorrow evening and in the event you do meet her again you might save yourself from the heartache with preparedness."

Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Hermione wasn't sure what Draco was thinking as he stared at her even more intently.

"This is some set up between the Golden trio, and I want no part in it," he finally said.

"Harry and Ron don't know about what I've just proposed to you. In fact, nobody knows. This will stay between just you and me," Hermione tried to explain.

"Nice try. What do you get out of this?" Draco asked, his hair falling into his eyes.

He asked her a superb question. What would she get out of this? The chance to stop her former tormentor from being infatuated and in love with her. To cease the strange juxtaposition of the situation. All of which she couldn't say.

"To make sure creepy men like you aren't bothering my friend Rose."

Draco Malfoy nodded as he thought of her answer.

"Fine, Granger. I'll do it. Only to prove you wrong. I'm neither creepy nor easily swayed." Draco straightened up and began to head to his room.

"See you tomorrow night then," Hermione said after him. "At eight o'clock, behind the chicken hut."

He only nodded in agreement before closing the bedroom door behind him. Leaving Hermione to ponder what had she done to herself.

* * *

Ginny was relieved to have finished washing all the dishes but she felt like it was worth it for the priceless comedy she had at lunch. The idea that Hermione's school bully was in love with her and her dirty books were hard to imagine. Throughout lunch, she wanted to laugh and share the hilarity of the situation with her family and Harry. Too bad she made a promise to keep Hermione's secret. On her way out of the kitchen, Hermione walked in. She looked flustered, like she was about to do a test.

"What's got under your bonnet?" Ginny asked. Hermione huffed and pulled her outside into the garden.

"A damn inconvenience is what. I know I might sound like Harry but I'm sure Malfoy is playing a game with me and he knows," Hermione said in a mad rant.

"How do you know he's not genuine?" Ginny asked.

"Because this is Malfoy. He can't possibly be in love with a woman he met for only a minute. He must have figured out who I really am. He's smart enough to do that."

Ginny bit her lip in worry as she watched Hermione pace back and forth in the garden, wearing down the patch of grass beneath her feet.

"What proof do you have that he has worked it out?"

"He was taunting me when I bumped into him upstairs. But I have a plan. I'm going to figure him out and see if he's telling the truth. I'm going to convince him these feelings are ridiculous. A crush."

Ginny knew Hermione was one of the smartest people in the country. But at this present moment, her plan was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.

"You know this may not work. I mean strange things happen to people when it comes to love. Harry never thought of me as anything but Ron's sister. Now we love each other."

"But that's Harry and you. You two are meant to be together. I'm pretty sure Harry would do anything for you. There's no way that Malfoy is going to change all his pre-conditioned Pureblood values just because he fancied a witch he just met."

Ginny felt conflicted and tried not to show it. Was Hermione right about Harry? That he would do anything for her? Even if it meant changing his mind on marriage and family? She wasn't sure about it. But what she's pretty sure about was how foolish Hermione's plan seemed to be when it concerned Draco Malfoy. Ginny was going to have to keep her eye out for her friend.

* * *

_A/N: Oh no! What's going to happen to between Harry and Ginny? Will Draco stay sane at the Burrow? I'll be updating this next Thursday. _

_Let me know your thoughts._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Lucius observed carefully when the Ministry employee walked into the Minister of Magic's office. Having been waiting in the same chair for over an hour, Lucius understood perfectly well the kind of game that was being played here. Fortunately he has the patience to get what he wants. The door opened again and the employee looked at him apologetically.

"Sorry, Mr Malfoy," the employee said. "Minister Shacklebolt is running over his appointments. Would you like to reschedule for another day?"

"I am here on behalf of the Hogwarts School Board. There is an urgent budgetary matter which needs the Minister's attention today. If he cannot resolve the issue by sundown, I'll be sure to make you accountable for the Ministry failing to secure the education of our future generation," Lucius said threateningly.

The employee paled and excused himself. A minute later, he returned to usher Lucius into the office. Lucius gave the man a withering stare as he walked passed him. Since he had come of age, he had had the privilege of entering this office during three previous Ministers' administration. Each one had injected their own character and personality into the room. From the cartography favoured by Millicent Bagfold, to Fudge's time filled with photographs of self-importance. It seemed like this Minister preferred sumptuous furnishings in bold and bright patterns.

"Thank you for seeing me in your _busy_ schedule, Minister Shacklebolt," Lucius said as he sat down on a plump chair in front of the Minister. The two men sat tall in their chairs, trying to assert dominance in the room.

"I don't have a lot of time to discuss Hogwarts' matters in a full meeting," Shacklebolt said in his usual baritone voice. "Please brief me on the issue and I'll see what the Ministry can do to assist."

Lucius took a thick envelope from his pocket and placed it in the middle of the desk.

"I have here a report on the unexpected repairs that weren't originally forecasted in this year's budget. These repairs require a curse breaker and skilled masons to work on. We require the ministry to pledge extra resources for this emergency before any students are injured at school," he explained. What Shacklebolt didn't know was that the problem was already in the Board's attention at least a month ago.

Kingsley accepted the envelope with cat-like grace. "Let my team evaluate the report and we will get back to you on any further questions."

"The Board would like your response within three days so the school can take action on the emergency," Lucius confirmed. "To be honest Minister, we were surprised when we didn't hear from you after my son Draco said he would come by to discuss the matter with you," Lucius remarked as he carefully studied the man.

"No, he did not," Kingsley replied casually. "Is that everything Mr Malfoy? My next appointment should be here by now."

Lucius stood up, knowing he was excused.

"Thank you again. We look forward to hearing from you."

The men bowed to each other as Lucius showed himself out of the office.

Determined, the angry father headed for Knockturn Alley. For the right price, there would be Aurors who would be willing to give up his son's location.

* * *

Twelve minutes late and he _lives _in the Burrow. Hermione fumed while she paced behind the chicken coop, her wand lit in a faint glow. She didn't want to make a scene by appearing at the house this evening, but if Draco didn't come out any second now, she would storm into the house and have a rant at him.

"Hello, Granger."

Whipping around, she saw Draco standing nonchalantly on the other side of the coop.

"You're late," she said and began to walk towards the hedgerow. They were still within the perimeters of the Burrow but out of sight.

"What do I get out of this silly rendezvous, Granger?" Draco asked, reluctantly following her.

Hermione stopped and spun around to face him. "Well you said it yourself that you are attracted to Rose," she replied.

"It's not just an attraction," he responded defensively. Silver eyes glared at her while he crossed his arms. Hermione needed him to trust her to carry out her plan.

"Well don't you want her to return your… affections?" she reasoned.

Draco replied, "If I did, why does it matter to you?"

"Like I've said before, I know her and as a caring friend, I want to make sure she's not falling in love with an arsehole."

"I'm not when I don't want to be."

"Considering you've tormented me since we first stepped into Hogwarts, I find that hard to believe."

"Fair point," he said.

"So let's play out the scenario when you finally see her again," she proposed. "At this point, we'll play out the most positive outcome, where she would find you handsome and charming. So call me Rose."

Draco raised a fine eyebrow at her, for a moment Hermione wondered if she gave away her secret.

"This is really silly, Gra-."

"Rose," she confirmed. Her body hummed with anticipation, hoping the blond would play along.

Silver eyes watched her suspiciously, tension moving between them in thick tendrils. But then Draco's eyes glimmered with mischief as a smirk grew across his face.

"Hello, Rose," Draco said in a low husky tone.

"Hello. I'm sorry but have we met?" Hermione replied, feeling her voice quiver slightly at the thought that they are actually playing this game.

"We have, I'm Draco. We met at your book signing."

"I remember now. It's nice to see you again Draco." Hermione held out her hand to shake.

His paler, bigger hand reached over to take hers, and brought it to his lips, brushing a soft caress against her skin.

"Charming," she dismissed, as if it didn't send an unexpected jolt down her spine. "Tell me about yourself. I don't seem to remember you from school."

"There's not much you need to know about my school years. I made some bad choices, most were aimed at Potter and his friends. Then some bad choices were thrusted upon me. I did what I could to survive," Draco said to her seriously.

"It mustn't have been easy," Hermione said as she stepped closer to him, trying to play an empathetic author who's attracted to the man. Close enough that she caught a faint whiff of his cologne, a clean and attractive scent.

"What about your future? What does Draco Malfoy most desire?" The heat of his skin burned through to her hand as she brushed it against the hand-me-down shirt sleeve.

"Freedom."

"You're not in Azkaban. You can do whatever you like," she pointed out.

"Freedom from the past and those who wish to keep me there." Draco looked away as if he was ashamed of his position. Harry had explained why he was under Auror protection at the Burrow so she decided to change the subject.

"What was your impression of me? You can be perfectly honest here," she asked, although secretly a little scared to know the truth.

"I think you're beautiful," Draco answered.

Hermione chuckled to herself. "That's your lust speaking. My looks will fade and you will look elsewhere."

"'Not all lust burns to ash'," Draco quoted from her novel, and it took her by surprise."You're also brilliant," he said.

"Only until I lose my wits with age," she retorted.

"I can see you have a sharp tongue," he added.

Hermione replied, "Careful. I may sting."

They grinned at each other in agreement, falling into the roles they have cast themselves in.

"I really like how refreshingly honest you are," Draco complimented. "It was very clear in your writing."

Despite her trade, Hermione was lost for words.

"What about you Rose? What do you want from the man of your dreams?" he asked.

Hermione took a moment to think of her answer, as she studied the wizard. Noting how the sleeves of his hand-me-down shirt was rolled up to show toned forearms. The way a few strands of his hair fell over his brow in a kind of attractive way.

"An open man," she said before taking a deep breath to better explain herself. "Someone who will accept my mind, my appearances, and what I love to do. Someone who doesn't have pre-existing expectations of me, my equal," she confessed. It felt strange to confess this to Draco Malfoy of all people.

"You can write whatever you want," he said. "As romantic or filthy as you like. Even if you decided to write full biographies of - dull Hogwarts professors that is fine with me." His arms unfolded and something pulled in Hermione's stomach to reach out for his hand.

"That's very nice of you to say," she replied. "Enough about me. What is your perfect woman like?" Hermione asked.

"That is hard to answer." Draco looked up to the darkening sky which gave her the perfect moment to study his face.

No longer could she describe his face as pointy, but more striking platinum blond hair fell loosely around his face since he had lived in the Burrow.

"The important thing is that this woman is loving," he finally answered. "She has to be smart like you, similarly practical, and strong."

Hermione struggled to breathe as he described her.

"What about a Pureblood family line?" she asked.

Draco's eyes hardened at the mention of blood purity.

"I don't give a flying pixie about that," he said.

"Thank goodness. Neither do I." Hermione tried to grin to reassure him. But the lightness of the atmosphere between them had shifted again. "Are you sure you don't want a tall and slim model who can bend in a hundred different ways?" she suggested. Draco laughed instinctively in response. She had never seen him laugh at a joke she made before.

"That's not a requirement for my ideal woman," he said.

"That's lucky for me then. I'm not very flexible at all," Hermione commented, although she wondered whether she was talking as Rose de Bois or about herself.

It didn't occur to her how close they were standing to each other, until an owl in the meadows hooted loudly. His hand instantly clasped around her wrist. Pulling her out of her reverie, before they sprang apart. They were Hermione and Draco again. No longer Rose and Draco.

Clearing his throat, Draco spoke first, "Thanks for your help, Granger."

He wouldn't have known that Hermione was trying to avoid his gaze too.

"No problem, Malfoy. Perhaps I'll contact Rose later. Shall we say, same time, same place next week?" she suggested.

"Sure. I best get going. Molly would turn the pigsty upside down if she doesn't coddle me."

With those final words, Draco made a hasty move back to the Burrow. Hermione watched his platinum blond head move out of sight as she reviewed her plan.

* * *

_A/N: A bit of a short chapter this week for a reason. I'll be updating again next week. Hope you all stay healthy and safe in these dark and strange times._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The room was dimly lit by the embers of a dying fire and a few candle stubs around the bed. A woman of jet black hair was sprawled across it, her face planted in the pillows. Returning to his occupied bed, glasses of water in hand; Blaise felt mischievous when he trickled drops of cold water down the woman's bare back.

"Bastard!" Pansy shrieked, glaring at the chuckling dark man as she accepted the offensive glass.

He replied, "it was too good to resist."

"You can drive a woman mad. No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

The pair sat naked side by side, so at ease with each other as to not bother with modesty.

Eventually Blaise spoke up, "I thought you didn't want to do this again."

Pansy shrugged. "I just felt like it."

"You're mad about something," Blaise reasoned. He knew from the moment she walked through his front door a few hours ago.

"No I'm not!" she confirmed.

"Clearly you _aren't _mad at the Malfoys," he said, putting his glass down before reaching for his cigarette case.

"I just don't get it," Pansy whined. Blaise offered her a cigarette and lit it for her. Watching her carefully as she glared at the canopy whilst taking her first drags of smoke.

"What is it about me that he doesn't want?" she asked, her dark eyes glistened with hurt and Blaise wasn't sure what to tell her.

"I have no idea," he lied. It would have been the worst time to tell her that she was a short-fused drama queen with little common sense.

"What is it about Malfoy, that makes you want to marry him in the first place?" he asked.

Pansy took another drag of her cigarette before answering.

"Why not? I've always set myself high standards. Pureblood, wealthy, and attractive," she said.

_I'm Pureblood, wealthy, and attractive. _Blaise thought to himself. He didn't understand women, especially women like Pansy who couldn't seem to think rationally at all.

"If there were three equally Pureblood, wealthy, and attractive men who proposed to you at the same time. Let's imagine them as three copies of Malfoy. Who would you choose and what would make that man different?"

Blaise smoked the rest of his cigarette and stubbed it in the crystal ashtray beside him. Pansy looked contemplative as she thought of an answer.

She replied, "I suppose, he would keep me on my toes and we would spend the rest of our lives keeping the relationship interesting. That's why I chose Draco. Even when he's not here, he continues to vex me."

Putting out the cigarette, she fluffed up the pillow to settle in for sleep. She was too preoccupied to see the look of annoyance across Blaise's face. His mind boggled at how blind she was to Malfoy's faults and lack of interest in her. Venting his own frustration, he casted a blindfold over her eyes, and bound her limbs to the bedposts.

"You're a complete animal!" Pansy protested.

Blaise ran his tongue from her collarbone all the way up her neck, delighted in the shiver it provoked from her.

"Yes but you like it," he said before he proceeded to ravish her senseless.

* * *

Ginny has never let her short stature become a disadvantage to her, until this very evening where folding and shaking out the creases of long stretches of fabric is similar to controlling a wayward Niffler inside a Gringotts vault. She tried her best to fold a newly sewn curtain in the living room of the Burrow with Hermione and her mum. If it weren't for Hermione helping out with the pinning of hems and curtain hooks, she would have been here alone battling inanimate objects with her mother, or even Malfoy.

"I had coffee with my captain, Gwenog, and she told me that she is considering early retirement," she shared with the room. It has been on her mind since she found out yesterday.

"Why is she retiring? Is it because of an injury?" Hermione asked her, whilst carefully pinning a pair of gold and cream curtains.

"I think she is considering management instead" Ginny replied. "I often see her asking questions about tactics with our manager."

"That's rather sensible of her. Quidditch takes a huge toll on your bodies," Molly added, her sewing needle weaving in and out of a curtain at rapid speed. "Especially if she wants to have her own family one day."

Tampering down her annoyance, Ginny reasoned, "We're not in the dark ages, a woman can have a family and still play Quidditch."

Spreading a freshly sewn curtain across the ironing board, she began pressing the hot iron along the seams.

"Of course you can't,' Molly argued as she finished a hem. "What if you get injured? Who is going to take care of them? They don't cook and clean for themselves. Even when they're adults, you still end up sewing their curtains."

"That's so old-fashioned mum," Ginny snapped back as she felt her blood begin to boil. "People don't have to have children just because it's the right thing to do. And what about the father? He can stay at home while his wife has a successful career."

Her hand pulled the iron back and forth with a vicious force, causing more unwanted creases than intended.

"What Ginny is trying to say is that the younger generation are more flexible with child care," Hermione said, trying to calm the two women down. "Sometimes the career of a woman could be more financially lucrative than a man's and it would be silly to sacrifice that for the sake of traditions."

Molly seemed more appeased with Hermione's answer.

"I could understand that it might be in _your _case," Molly said to Hermione gently. "Maybe one day you will be the head of the Wizengamot. But let's be honest, Quidditch is a young person's game."

Ginny wouldn't admit it out loud but her mother was right about that. One bad fall and your career could be over. Some of her colleagues were talented on the pitch, but she knew they may not have other prospects when all their time was spent on broomsticks.

"Well if Harry is happy for you to continue Quidditch once you both have children, I guess I can't dissuade you," Molly commented before returning to her sewing.

Ginny remained quiet, the last thing she wanted to tell her mother was that marriage and children were the very last thing on Harry's mind. It's the whole reason why she was considering a bid for captain. The perfect role for her to sink her teeth into when she won't be taking time off the pitch for popping out babies.

The living room door opened and a platinum blond head appeared through the gap. Ginny heard Hermione hiss sharply as she poked her finger with a pin.

"Mrs Weasley, I'll be going for a walk around the paddock," Malfoy said.

"Alright Draco. Bring in the chickens while you're outside," Molly ordered.

Ginny noticed how her mother had become more comfortable at ordering Malfoy around the house; just like ordering around her own children.

"Sure. I'll be back in soon," he replied, looking around the room before closing the door behind him.

Hermione gave out a big huff as she folded up fabrics.

"Is that the time already?" Hermione announced to the room. "Sorry Molly and Ginny, I still have some reading to do before my meeting in the morning. I've already pinned the hem to this piece of fabric, so it's ready for sewing."

Ginny watched curiously as Hermione gathered her things hastily before leaving. She wondered if Hermione was up to something and if her timing coincided with Malfoy's walk. Then she shrugged and continued with ironing; she was pretty sure Hermione would tell her sooner or later.

* * *

Draco waited for Granger until her head of curls appeared around the hedgerow. He wasn't sure exactly why he agreed to meet her a second time. Perhaps it was the monotony at the Burrow, anxieties about his future, or his only glimmer of hope was a woman he met not so long ago. Maybe he was just desperate for anything that could keep him occupied, even if it meant playing along with this witch's crazy ideas.

"Finally decided to show up," he said with a smirk.

"I'm not late," she retorted. "We didn't have a specific time set."

He studied her under wand light, noting how her face hadn't changed much since their late school days. Only her demeanour seemed less earnest and more reassured.

"What are we doing then?" Draco asked. "I don't have all evening."

He watched her bite her lip unconsciously as she looked up to him.

"Last time, we imagined if Rose would be more receptive to your feelings in the eventuality you both meet," she took a sharp intake of breath. "This time, let's imagine if Rose would be more… scornful towards you."

He raised an eyebrow, "and why would we do this?"

Hermione lifted up her chin to him. "So I know you're not going to hex or curse my friend if she ends up not liking you."

Draco glared at her in suspicion. He was still sure that Potter and the Weasleys are in on some sort of elaborate joke here and Granger was the actor in all of this. However nothing indicated that Potter or Weasleys knew about these meetings. Maybe Granger had her own secrets from them.

"I don't see the chance of that happening."

"Isn't it better to err on the side of caution?" she counter-argued.

"Fine. Let's see what happens," he said as he crossed his arms.

He watched her demeanour shift and a new twinkle in her caramel eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

"Nice to see you again Draco," she said huskily. "Last time you said you were at my book signing. Have you read any of my books?"

She stepped closer to him, with a swing to her hips. _Was Granger being flirtatious? _

"Yes it was a riveting read," he played along.

"What did you like about the story? What did you glean from a story about a wizard and a Muggle falling in love?" Hermione teased.

He thought about his answer for a moment and smirked when he knew what he wanted to say.

"The characters are fully formed and relatable. But there were some glaring issues in the story," he criticised.

"Oh a literary critic," she gasped mockingly. "A man of many talents. What did you find problematic in my writing?"

Draco tried to not smile with amusement as Granger gazed at him through her eyelashes, her pink lips falling into a pout.

"I didn't say problematic. I'm just doubtful of the power of sex in bridging the divides of two people from different environments," he stated.

"So you're telling me you've never had a mind-blowing, perception-changing blowjob?"

It took Draco off guard when those filthy words fell from the normally prim witch's mouth, before he composed himself again. Two can play the game of wits.

"That's irrelevant," he defended. "I'm pointing out that changing people's perspectives is a long and difficult process. Lust and the physical acts of pleasure aren't miracles in making that happen."

Granger gazed at him quizzically, unconsciously biting her lips as he watched her process everything.

"I'd like to add that no woman has ever sucked me off to the point that it made me feel differently about the world or her," he stated.

She pouted at him again. "It's ok if you're a bit inexperienced."

"I didn't say that." Draco tampered down the defensive anger he felt within, "Just a bit disappointed in most women's abilities."

"Are you trying to gain sympathy for your terrible non-existent sex life?" Granger teased.

"No. Only stating that I never met the right woman."

The witch's hand cupped his arm as she leant in, the warmth of her palm burning his skin through his shirt.

"I'm sure it's not the woman's fault," she pulled away as quickly as she had invaded his space. "Perhaps, Draco Malfoy, you are a cynic about love and passion," she proclaimed as if it were a fact. It irked him immeasurably.

"Me? I have no idea what gave you that impression," he replied sarcastically.

"It's clear that you have never made a real connection with a woman. Are you sure it's not wizards you're attracted to?" she asked gently.

"I know exactly which sex I'm attracted to," he said clearly, his self-control wavering as the conversation went on.

"Don't take it the wrong way. I just had no idea," she said innocently as her fingers idly plucked leaves from the hedge.

"Who made you the expert of sexuality?" he retorted.

"I have never suggested such a thing." Hermione replied. "Maybe you've never felt that sexual connection because you have never loved someone else before," she pondered. She let torn leaves flutter to the ground. "Let's be fair, you don't look like someone who is 'in love'. There's no signs of negligence in your appearance from pining."

Her eyes scanned his body, he felt like he was under inspection. The witch leant in again, close enough that he could smell the floral scent of her hair and observe her eyes shifting rapidly across the minute details of his face.

"It's not like you've got dark circles from lack of sleep, most men in unrequited love would find sleeping difficult."

"There are ways to help a man to fall asleep," he said and was cut short when her hands reached for his forearms. Her thumbs rubbed against the insides of his wrists. Draco pulled back in shock.

"What are you doing?" he shouted.

"As I thought, it doesn't feel like your right arm is getting more _exercise _than your left arm."

Draco was flabbergasted. Lost for words. His mouth opened ready to verbally hurl something sharp at her again. But her hand quickly swept up and brushed her palm against his jaw.

"Not even a five o'clock shadow. Shaving daily as if you're not pining for the woman you love and it doesn't bother you at all." she tutted.

"Ignorant witch," he shouted. "I keep up my appearances in the eventuality of seeing Rose again. These small rituals of grooming are what keeps me sane in this pigsty!"

Granger only shrugged at him. "That's hardly any proof you love me. I bet you're just like many other men I've ever met. To you, I'm just a girl for a good time."

"That is not true," he said through gritted teeth.

"Of course you would say that. There's no proof for anything more than lust," Hermione goaded.

"I do love you, Rose. I would face ten Death Eaters unarmed for -"

"Such empty grand gestures. Those don't account for true love. Actions of love are quieter and subtler," Hermione argued with an exasperated sigh.

"I do and I can prove it."

Rosy lips stretched into a smile and Granger laughed softly at him. "Please, you can act out any empty gestures you want."

"Then what do you want from me? Jump off a cliff? Hug a Dementor?" he shouted no longer holding himself back.

Hermione shook her head at him, "That proves nothing. Even snogging me here and now will prove little of-"

Without much thought, he cupped her face and leant down to meet her in a kiss. Hermione went rigid in shock until he brushed his lips again against hers. As she gasped from the realisation of their actions, Draco's body was now engulfed in a hot blaze, sinking deeper and deeper into their kisses. Their mouths battled for dominance as her arms wrapped around his waist; his hands now tangled into her soft curls.

Something sharp stabbed the back of his hand, instantly making him pull back in pain. Granger's eyes were wide with shock, her hair fluffed with bits of greenery; her lips reddened, open and gasping for breath. His heart hammered against his chest. He wondered if he looked just as equally dishevelled. Panic doused any lingering feelings of lust. Draco turned on his heels and fled back to the Burrow.


End file.
